


You Can Go Your Own Way

by vernie_klein



Series: Like the Heart Goes [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Could Sam get any stupider?, Dean hates being alone, Episode: s01e11 Scarecrow, He's just a mention, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Maybe he'll get what he wants someday, No Spoilers, Part Four in the Series, Poor Dean, Sam isn't even in this story, Still technically pre-slash, abuse of clothing, or maybe a figment, scaring people trying to picnic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2015-06-02
Packaged: 2018-04-02 11:29:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4058365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vernie_klein/pseuds/vernie_klein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part Four in <i>Like the Heart Goes</i></p>
<p>Sam takes off in the middle of the night on a Hunt. Dean is left to contemplate his loneliness.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i>This is the story of Sam and Dean Winchester. Not the story we've seen played out on our television screens a million times, but the story of what happened to get them to where they are today. The story of two brother's souls, so tightly woven together, that neither can be whole.</i></p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>(each story can be read independently of each other)</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Can Go Your Own Way

**Author's Note:**

> I hope that you enjoy part 4 in _Like the Heart Goes_. We have finally made it to the Series. I may go back and add a story pre-series, but I don't know yet. 
> 
>  
> 
> The title of this story was taken from _Go Your Own Way_ by my Beta's favourite band... Fleetwood Mac. Writing credit goes to Lindsey Buckingham
> 
>  
> 
> This story was not beta'd and any mistakes are mine.

**~~~~ _SamAndDean_ ~~~~**

Dean shook his head as Sam walked away from the Impala. He slid into the driver's seat and just sat. He couldn’t believe that Sam just walked away like that. Yeah, they fought, sometimes frequently, but Dean thought things had been good since Sam came back. He shook his head, put the car in drive and took off down the highway. Fuck him. If Sam wanted to play that game, he would too. Besides, he had a case to investigate. It wasn’t his fault Sam was a pussy and didn’t want to follow Dad’s orders. 

Dean pulled over at the first rest area he found. Even though it was the middle of the night, he needed fresh air and time to gather his thoughts. He stopped in front of the picnic area and got out of the car. Dean left the lights on and the car running. He made his way to the green table and sat down. Dean laid his head on the peeling surface and closed his eyes. He thought he rested for just a few minutes, but when he opened them, the sun was shining. He stood, walked to the car and turned the key through the open window. Dean was glad he was in a remote location. He twisted left and right, then jumped a few times to rid his body of the kinks of sleeping at a picnic table. 

He sat back down and ran a finger across the scarred, peeling surface. The initials CH -n- PB were carved into the lower corner of the table. He absently traced the marks and wondered about their lives. Did they live a normal life, or were they nomads like he was? He wondered if they were still together, or if they had separated, like him and Sam.

Not that him and Sam were together, together; but they were in each others pockets. Had been for years. Sure, it was a little awkward when Sam came back. They had spent four years apart, and had to relearn a few things, but Dean felt they were definitely connecting again like they did when Sam was a teenager. Speaking of Sam as a teenager, he had filled out since then. When Sam left for college, they were close to the same height. Sam was only about an inch taller than Dean’s six foot. Dean had grown an inch and a half and filled out quite a bit since then, but Sam- He looked like a Greek God. Dean wasn’t slacking in the muscles department, but when Dean had occasion to see Sam shirtless not that long ago… Fuck. Dean had to stitch up Sam’s back, and dude, he was _cut_. He looked like he worked out for a few hours a day. Dean knew that Sam ran at least fifteen miles every morning, but last he had seen him, he had been a little runt.

Dean smiled at the thought of seeing his brother for the first time up close in four years. Sure, he had spoken to him in the phone a handful of times the first two years that he had been away. Then there had been that fight on Christmas. Dean wanted Sam to come to Vegas for Christmas where he had been hunting what they thought was a Chupacabra, but turned out to be a rabid coyote. Dean called Sam, wanting nothing more than to see if he wanted to go to the casinos and it turned into an epic bitch-fest. Dad yelled at Sam _and_ Dean for Sam _abandoning_ the whole family. Dean knew that he was wrong when he hesitated in taking Sam’s side in the argument. Just like he had when Sam left for college in the first place. It wasn’t that he didn’t stand behind Sam… No, really, he did! But, Dean knew he needed to not alienate John as well. Dean was still going to have to Hunt with John after Sam left. He had only been twenty-two. Not old enough to Hunt on his own, but old enough to know backtalkin’ his Daddy would be the fastest way to find out he _was_ too young to be alone. Not that it did any good.

As it was, Dean was left in that run down town for two weeks after Sam left. Then, the Christmas argument had warranted a Windigo in Arkansas for three whole weeks alone. Dean had then been left alone with that Hoodoo case in New Orleans right after Katrina. That had been the last straw. Sending Dean into a Hurricane ravaged area to Hunt a witch that wasn’t really hurtin’ anyone. John had been left him for a month with twice weekly phone calls to check in and then all of a sudden, radio silence. Dean had a difficult Hunt, compounded by worry before he had a break in the case six weeks in. He was finally able to get ahead of the witch and snuffed him. Of course, not before ruining his pride. Dean then tried to contact his father again. For two weeks he tried, but more radio silence.

That was when he made his decision to go to California and retrieve Sam. He really only wanted his brother for that one hunt- Find Dad. Well, no- That was a lie. Dean wanted Sam like a fish wants, no- needs water. He was only half a person without Sam. There was a deep void only his little brother could fill. That Dean only wanted his baby brother to fill. Dean glanced up at the road and sighed. The parking lot had filled up while he was throwing himself a pity-party. He ran his gun-calloused fingers through his short, spiky hair and jostled his knee up and down. Sam made the nervous tick go away. He just wanted it to go away.

Dean stood abruptly and pushed away from the bench. He threw his bowie knife into the the already scarred tabletop. He didn’t care that there was a family just sitting down to a roadside picnic at the next table. He didn’t care that everyone in that park thought that he was crazy. He had just lost his other half _again_. It was too hard to handle. Dean didn’t want to have a break down in the middle of a now crowded rest area. He yanked his knife out of the wood and high-tailed it to the Impala.

Dean threw open the back door and flung himself into the seat, Sam had left a hoodie draped over the passenger seat. Dean snagged it and buried his face in the jersey cloth. The green fabric was worn thin and soft under Dean’s fingertips. He breathed in the scent that was uniquely Sam. It smelled of grass and sunshine, sweat and little brother. Home. A scent that Dean would know anywhere. No one could hide Sam from him.

Hot tears leaked from Dean’s eyes. He hadn’t wanted to push his brother away. Dean sat up and folded Sam’s sweatshirt up neatly. He climbed out of the backseat into the drivers and took off down the road, not caring if gravel was dinging up Baby’s undercarriage. He had to get away from people Somewhere he could be all alone. He pulled off ten miles or so down the highway onto a dirt frontage road that looked as if it hadn’t been used in fifteen or so years.

Dean turned the car off and wandered a little ways from the Impala. He took a leak, shook out his cock, and zipped back up. Dean surveyed his surroundings and decided that this place was good as any to crash for the night. He popped the trunk and dragged out Sam’s blanket. He pulled out the small pillow he kept shoved in the depths of the trunk space and fluffed it a time or two. Dean choked back a sob as Sam’s scent surrounded him. Usually Dean was a rock. No emotions- No, those had been taken away from him piece by piece growing up. They never reached the surface. John saw to that. Now though, with no one as his witness, Dean allowed himself a moment or two of vulnerability. He grabbed the remainder of his supplies and created a Sam bed in the backseat.

Dean took an unopened bottle of whiskey, climbed on the hood and drank away his sorrows the Winchester Way.

**~~~~ _SamAndDean_ ~~~~**

He woke, slightly stiff and cold as ice. Dean climbed from the hood and fumbled around for the whiskey cap. He found it next to the front tire and blew the dirt off before screwing it back on the bottle of Hunter’s Helper. The sun was low in the sky. Dean checked his watch, 8:30. He figured he was drunk enough to crash for good.

Dean crawled in the back of the Impala. He breathed in, Sam’s scent over everything and immediately began to get hard in his jeans. Dean was drunk, and alone, and figured that no one would know if he jerked off to Sam.

He popped the button on his jeans and lowered the zip over his hot flesh. He shimmied his jeans and black boxer briefs off his hips and hissed as the cool night air reached his cock. Dean pulled Sam’s folded hoodie from the floor and draped the worn fabric over his erection. The jersey cotton felt soft and smooth against his cock. Dean worked the fabric up and down, twisting and pulling. He reached past his balls with a split slick finger and caught the tip on the rim of his anus. He moaned as his finger breached the hot, puckered flesh. Dean increased the speed of his jerking, the feeling in his abdomen building into an overwhelming tightness. Dean added another finger and pumped them in and out quickly, lightly brushing over his prostate. He pushed harder on the tiny bundle of nerves and jerked one more time on his sensitive cock. He shouted _Sam_ as hot come shot in ropes from his cock, coating the tunnel he made with Sam’s hoodie. Dean rode his high as long as he could before things got too sensitive. He pulled his fingers from his ass and wiped them on the blanket.

Dean chuckled and tossed Sam’s soiled clothing in the floor. He didn’t even bother to pull up his pants before snuggling deep into the blanket. He drifted off, thoughts of Sam’s long limbs and floppy hair at the forefront of his thoughts.


End file.
